"Lend me your eyes, I can change what you see - but your soul you must keep totally free."

Saturday, September 1, 2012

A Keen Observation of the Obvious

The desert is a funny place. It is hotter than hell but quite
the unexpected heavenly haven of beauty and wonder. Within only a couple
of hours of being in Arizona I experienced the awe-inspiring phenomenon
that is a desert storm. You know - the kind that comes out of nowhere,
rages relentlessly, and somehow, through a strange turn of events,
leaves everything renewed and restored – not unlike life.

I’m
a wanderer at heart and I do my best to seize each and every
opportunity I have to immerse myself in the newness of wherever life
takes me – this was no exception. I am an observer who’s always looking
for more. I suppose going to the heart of the desert was more appealing
to me than it would be to some people, but I saw it as an opportunity
for a journey of sorts and was thrilled to be there.

You
could say I’m in Arizona with my boss ‘on business’ but I say I’m in
Arizona getting a complimentary crash course in life from one of the
smartest people I know. You learn a lot about people when you travel
with them. You hear their stories, you share your own, and you throw
some ink on the pages of new ones along the way. I am grateful for the
opportunity to have spent time doing just that over the course of the
past several days. She's a writer and I’m a wannabe so I’ve invested a
lot of time into reading what she’s written – time that has been,
without question, nothing short of well spent. Though I have many
‘favorite’ columns of hers and honestly believe they could all be bound
into an overnight bestseller, “Disappointment and Magic” is today’s
homerun.

The column begins like this: “I seem to spend a
lot of time being disappointed. Disappointed in myself and the people
around me. Disappointed in the ways of the world and the attitudes
therein. Disappointed in what I have accomplished and what I have not.
And so on…” And so on indeed. I am the poster child for irrational
disappointment. I tend to hold people to high standards, but I hold
myself to higher. Disappointment – be it in myself, in others, or to
others – exists as an unforgivably crippling word in my vocabulary.

At
first glance, everything in the desert looks the same, but also not
unlike life, first glances are deceiving. I experienced a desert mirage
for the first time the other day, and had to give pause to the wonder
that couldn’t help but seep from the experience.

There
has been something missing in my life. I’ve experienced, been a product
of, or instigated some relatively major changes in the past year both
intentionally and unexpectedly in search of that ever-present missing
link. I have searched and searched and without fail always wound up
empty handed and disappointed. I've looked and I've looked and I must
have looked right at it, through it, up and over it, but guess what?

I found it in the desert: Freedom.

I
have been a wide variety of willingly, circumstantially, hopelessly,
hopefully, consciously and unconsciously tied down for as long as I can
remember. I am a planner. I always have a plan. Even if the plan is to
make a plan. I am a chronic list maker. If I don’t write a to-do list in
the morning, you can forget about it. I am admittedly a self-imposed
box dweller – never ever have I ever allowed myself the freedom to
really think outside the imaginary box I’ve placed myself in – until
now.

In the middle of the desert, though my feet may get
burned, I am fearlessly taking a step outside the box. I am coloring
outside the lines, I am embracing the freedom of possibility, and for
once in my life, I’m being selfish. There, I said it – and I’ll say this
too – I’m not sorry. There are too many things I haven’t done yet, too
many places to go, people to meet, lessons to learn, pages to turn…
Freedom is free, and I’m cashing it in - because I can, and because I
need to. There is a sweet sense of liberation that comes from allowing
yourself to just let things be – Paul McCartney was really onto
something there.

I
looked at this cactus my last morning in Arizona and spent a moment
acknowledging and appreciating just how much we are the same. The desert
is a place of survival, and at the end of the day, I’m a survivalist. I
have no problem gritting my teeth and pushing through droughts,
although I do occasionally find myself wishing it was merely water I
thirst for. I will continuously wait patiently, weather the storm, find
restoration in the downpour, and sustain myself until the next storm
blows through without complaint or need. The odds are not often in my
favor, so self-preservation is second nature. There are a lot of things
about me that act as armor. I am well aware I’ve spurred people along
the way - for that I am deeply sorry. But, on the days
that I’m able, I really do try to branch out and give a little bit of
whatever it is I have to offer this world and the people in it.

Her
column closes brilliantly with this: “Sometimes flowers grow in the
cracks of the sidewalk and a grain of sand becomes a pearl. Sometimes
people really do “walk the talk” and care about the “greater good”.
Sometimes people survive the un-survivable and conquer the
un-conquerable. Sometimes the painting turns out to be a Picasso and the
rock is really a diamond. Sometimes the underdog wins. As it is with
many things – disappointment comes down to attitude. So every day I try
to remember: hope for the best, be prepared for the worst and look for
the magic.” – Stephanie Anne Koehler

I always look for
inspiration in unexpected places, but this time, inspiration
unexpectedly found me. To me the magic is in the mirage. What if what
I’ve been looking for isn’t something that can be obtained? What if I
spend my whole life so focused on the destination that I disregard the
journey? Therein lies displaced disappointment. Real disappointment
happens – its unavoidable - but I don’t have the time, energy, or desire
to waste being unjustly disappointed. Instead, I will be a
believer in the flower, the grain of sand, the rock, and the underdog -
and perhaps most importantly - I will give myself the freedom to look
for the magic in what's in front of me instead of being disappointed in
what's not.